Krishnapriya Devashree

55. Of Silent Nights

"Shree, you must be exhausted," Krishna whispered, his voice filled with worry as he thought of her long journey and recent recovery.

"Traveling so far, especially after what you've been through... you should rest."

He pulled back slightly, studying her face, searching for any sign of fatigue or pain that she might try to conceal. He knew the journey wasn't just physically demanding but emotionally taxing as well.

Devashree offered him a weary yet contented smile, seeing his concern.

"Yes, it was a long journey," she admitted, "but every step brought me closer to you, Swami. That thought alone gave me strength."

Krishna cupped her face in his hands, moved by her determination and the love that fueled it.

"I can't believe you came all this way for me," he murmured, his heart swelling with a mix of admiration and guilt for the distress he had caused her.

"I would cross any distance, endure any hardship, just to be with you," Devashree replied, her words underscored by the depth of her commitment. "But now that I'm here, in your arms, all the weariness seems trivial. You are worth every mile, every challenge."

Recognizing the toll the journey had indeed taken on her, Krishna gently guided her to a nearby bench nestled under the shade of a blossoming tree. He sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to share warmth and comfort.

"Let's just sit here for a while," he suggested softly. "You need to rest, and I need to make up for the time we've lost. I'm here for you, Shree, in every way you need. Tell me how come you are here, Priye?" Krishna's voice was soft, filled with awe and concern. "After everything, you traveled so far..."

"Your letter, Krishna. When I read your words, something inside me just... broke free. I couldn't bear the distance between us any longer. I had to come."

A puzzled shadow flickered across Krishna's face.

"My letter?" he echoed gently, confusion threading through his words. He searched her face for clues, trying to piece together the mystery.

"Shree, I wrote many letters, yes, filled with my feelings, my apologies... but I never sent any. I couldn't. Every time I tried, something held me back-fear, perhaps, or uncertainty."

Devashree's brow furrowed slightly, her lips parting in surprise.

"But I received one, Krishna. A letter that spoke of your love, your regret, your longing for my presence. It was your words that brought me here, nothing else could have."

Krishna became puzzled but then did not remain for long as he figured out who could have had a hand in that.

Krishna pieced together the likely scenario. The only ones who knew of the letters' existence, and who also had the means and the whimsy to act so boldly, were very few.

A knowing smile touched his lips as he considered the mischievous and benevolent nature of his

"Garuda," he murmured with a soft laugh, his suspicions crystallizing into certainty.

"It must have been Garuda. Who else would dare? He has always been more than just my carrier-often acting as a guardian in his own right."

"Yes. He handed me the letter himself, claiming it was urgent that I read it. Oh, Natha, he must have known how much we needed this."

"Ah, but there was also someone else involved."

"Who?" Devashree's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

"Don't worry about him," he reassured Devashree with a sly smile. "I will handle him myself. He is hardly someone important. We should not waste our time on him."